Living With The Burden Of Us
by itsbenoitbitch01
Summary: The trials and tribuations of the glee club as they deal with love, loss, finding their way, and discovering who they truly are.
1. An Awkward Dinner With My Boyfriend

~Finn Hudson~

Okay. I'm sitting in Breadstix with my boyfriend. And you know what? Life ain't that bad. I mean, I have a mom and dad who work round the clock to keep us above water while trying to save up enough to send Kurt or I to school, but life's pretty good, all things considered. Sam. He's always been a sweetheart about money. His family's like rich and he has no problem paying when we go out. Which isn't that often because I feel guilty about letting him pay. Today is our five week anniversary. That's the only reason I let him take me out.

Look at him. He's so fucking cute. His floppy blond hair. That wide mouth and pouty lips. Correction. That TALENTED, wide mouth. His green eyes. His eyes remind me every time I see them, of how he first got me to agree to a date. By complimenting mine. In that language from Avatar, Na'vi. 'Lor menari' he said. Supposedly that meant that he thinks I have pretty eyes. He's such a complete dork. First time that he said it to me we had been practicing. For the duets assignment Mr. Schu had given us.

_~Flashback~_

_Mr. Schu had assigned us partners. He put dudes together and chicks together to 'make it more challenging'. Sam and I are in the choir room alone. Practice was over and we seemed to be the only two that wanted to get right on it. He looks so good in his sweater. Even though it totally makes him look like the Where's Waldo Waldo._

_"I have no clue what song we can do together. I mean, we're two dudes!" I say. I had an inkling that Sam might be like me, but I didn't want to risk anything. I mean, seriously, who has hair like that without being like this? I wasn't out yet and I didn't want to risk it. I can't risk being out yet. I want to bide my time. I mean, Kurt's out and he get bullied all the time. Being popular; It's all I have. I can't risk it._

_"I have an idea," he says, with the CUTEST GRIN EVER. Ugh. It like legit hurts not to kiss those lips RIGHT NOW. And then he tells me the song and my own smile forces its way onto my own lips. He is like me. At least, half way like me. And this is going to me fun. And perhaps the best way EVER to come out._

_The next five days fly by. Sam and I practice everyday, working out solos, getting better at harmonizing with each other. It feels so awesome and natural to be so close to him. Getting to dance and sing. I don't think I've felt this happy since New Directions won Sectionals last year. And all of a sudden, it was Thursday. Glee day. I've actually got sweaty palms I'm so nervous. Sam and I are up right after Rachel and Tina. Dear God help us all._

_Rachel gets up in front of all of us, pulling Tina by the hand. "Tina and I have selected a song that combines her love of Katy Perry and my deep feelings of sorrow and regret. And i can only hope that this song reaches out a touches you in the way I wish I could." I think I know what song they're talking about. And then it starts. O God. It is. Katy Perry's 'Thinking of You'. It's sad but that is Rachel's way of saying 'I'm sorry I was an emotionally abusive bitch'. Regardless, Rachel's power and Tina's dulcet notes charm everyone but me. I know the sinister motives behind her song choice. She wants me and that's not me being...um, egotismic? is that right? No? Oh well._

_They end their song. Mercedes and Kurt are nearly in tears, being so moved by it. It's my and Sam's turn. He gets up in front of everyone and begins with, "now this duet isn't something most people would expect from two dudes but we hope we can do it justice." Oh God. It's here. The moment._

_The band begins their accompaniment. I'm up first._

_**What's somebody like you doin' in a place like this?  
Say did you come alone or did you bring all your friends?  
Say whats your name? What you drinking?  
I think I know what are you thinking  
Baby whats your sign,  
tell me yours and ill tell you mine  
Say What's someone like you doin' in a place like this?**_

_Then Sam joins me, harmonizing the chorus._

_**I'll never be the same  
If we ever meet again  
Won't let you get away  
If we ever meet again  
This freefall, oh, got me so, oh  
kiss me all night,  
don't ever let me go  
Ill never be the same  
if we ever meet again**_

_I drop out of it, leaving Sam to his verse. He breaks into it, shocking them with his voice. It's perfect for Katy's parts of the song, just one octave lower._

_**Do you come here much?  
I swear I've seen your face before  
You don't see me blush  
but I cant help to want you more, more  
Baby tell me whats your story?  
I ain't shy, don't you worry  
I'm flirting with my eyes  
I wanna leave with you tonight  
do you come here much?  
I've gotta see your face some more  
(some more cause baby I..)**_

_Then I join back in. We harmonize together for the rest of the song. I don't mean to sound... um egotistic?... but we're pretty good. Great even._

_**I'll never be the same  
If we ever meet again  
Won't let you get away  
If we ever meet again  
This free fall, oh got me so, oh  
kiss me all night,  
don't ever let me go  
Ill never be the same  
if we ever meet again  
If we ever meet again,  
I'll have so much more to say  
(Say if we ever meet again)  
If we ever meet again, again  
I wont let you go away  
(Say if we ever meet again)  
If we ever, ever meet again  
I'll have so much more to say  
(Say if we ever meet again)  
If we ever, ever meet again  
I wont let you go away!  
I'll never be the same  
If we ever meet again  
Won't let you get away  
If we ever meet again  
This free fall, oh got me so oh  
kiss me all night,  
don't ever let me go  
Ill never be the same  
if we ever meet again  
I'll never be the same  
If we ever meet again  
Won't let you get away  
If we ever meet again  
This free fall, oh got me so, oh  
kiss me all night,  
don't ever let me go  
Ill never be the same  
if we ever meet again**_

_Sam's amazing. His voice, his movements, his body all seem to be perfectly suited for this song. We prance around, dancing together while performing our number. I don't think I've had as much fun as this in a LONG time._

_As the song comes to its close, I look around at my fellow glee clubbers. Looks range from shock to happiness to sadness and jealousy. You can guess who the last one is. After it ends, Sam and I kind of just stand there awkward, no one moving. Eventually, it's Quinn who breaks the non-moving-ness... She gets up from her see and walks over, clapping. Genuinely. she throws her arms around Sam and I, pulling us into a big hug._

_"I'll always be here to support you," she whispers into my ear. And that's when the tears begin to spill out of my eyes. This woman may have lied to me, cheated on me and been a back-stabbing bitch to the entire glee club, but she has times like that when she makes me love her more than anyone else. She pulls away and says, "both of you. No matter what". She has tears in her eyes. It's Quinn's gesture of love and support that breaks the dam of silence of the glee club. Everyone but You-Know-Who joins the hug. I actually kinda started sobbing because of the amount of kindness and acceptance they showed me, crying into Mercedes' shoulder._

_~End Flashback~_

The forty-something waitress that will be serving our table comes around. She gives us the same look that everyone around gives us. It's the one that says 'two dudes together? That's disgusting'. I look down, blushing. I've never actually dated a guy before and so I'm not used to the looks. But it's soon gone and replaced with a fake smile that couldn't fool a blind nun. She takes our orders. A fettuccine alfredo for me with a coke while Sam just getas a salad and water. It seems like that's all he ever eats in public. Like he's ashamed to be seen eating something even remotely unhealthy. Even seen by me.

First time I was at his house, he asked me my favourite food. And I told him. Mac and cheese with hot dogs cut up into it. And he made it for me. It was really sweet. But he didn't eat any of it. In fact I don't think I've ever seen him eat anything junk food-ish. Odd.

O. Dear. God. it can't be her. It just can't. She cannot be here right now. Not to mention it's a totally stalker thing to do. Rachel Berry, you better be here with your dads.

"I...uh, gotta go hit the head," I say with what I think is a smile, but probably comes across as pained. O god. He's going to think I need to poop. I walk as quickly as I can without making a huge kurfufle. Rachel looks up at me and gives me a big smile full of thinly veiled jealousy.

"Hi Finn," she says. Ooooo. The pizza she's eating looks delicious. It's got SO much cheese. And a ton of different kinds of meat. I like meat. O my God. Get your mind out of the gutter. Perv.

"What are you doing here? You knew I'd be here with Sam tonight," I say, exasperation clear in my voice. I'd told Mercedes, Quinn and Kurt about my big plans for tonight in glee two days ago. I knew word must have somehow gotten to Rachel because here she was, sitting alone, creepily close to our table.

"I have no clue what you mean, Finn. I came here to have dinner with myself. I didn't know that you were going to be here with Barbie." She grins with both sarcasm and bitchiness.

"You know it would be easier for you to spy on us if you were at our table, so feel free to join us," Sam says, appearing on her other side. Holy crap. How'd he do that. Oh crap. Did he just invite Rachel to our table. NOOOOO!

"Well if you really want me to be ther," she says, getting up. She picks up her pizza and pulls her chair and begins walking towards our table.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hiss in his direction.

"Now is where we run," he responds with a wicked grin. His eyes are twinkling in the light, like he thinks this is some sort of game. He starts to make his way towards the exit. He meets the waitress partway to it.

"Here, you can keep the change and please tell the girl sitting at our table she can order anything off the menu," he says to her, slipping the forty-something a Benji. "And if you ever see two guys together at a table like Finn and I ever again, don't you dare give them the face you gave us. It was insanely rude." Okay. That was hot. I like it when my man stand up for me. And himself. He looks all intense and sexy.

"Come on, before she figures out we're not following her," he says to me, moving towards the door.

"Please! She talks fast but she thinks slow," I respond with a laugh. We exit Breadstix and walk slash run to his car, still laughing. A beautiful deep blue Beemer. He opens the door for me. He's such a gentleman. I get in and he closes the door for me before dashing to his own.

We drive the couple miles to his house, making small talk along the way. We approach his house and again, I'm hit by the size of it. It's the biggest house in Lima. 30 rooms. With a pool.

We walk inside and he immediately starts towards the kitchen. The interior of the kitchen is all shiny stainless steel and chrome. It looks so ultramodern. All silver.

"So what can I make you?" He asks giving me a look of expectancy.

"Uh...Mac and cheese? In honor of the first time I was here?" This makes him smile and chuckle before he sets about getting the things he needs to make it. He's such a great guy. I feel kinda guilty that I haven't brought him home to meet my mom. I think she'd like him. No. I know she'd like him. He's good to me and that's all she'd care about.

I sit and watch him as he boils the water,cooks the macaroni and makes the cheese sauce. Hot damn he can cook. He sets a large yellow plate of the mac and cheese in front of me. It smells so good. It hits me now that I actually haven't eaten since lunch. And that was at like noon and now it's like 7. He hasn't put any on a plate for himself. That's... odd. I know he hasn't eaten since lunch either. He's been with me all day.

"Aren't you going to have any?" I ask, my voice doing that annoying thing where it goes up at the end.

"I was just going to eat off of your plate," he responds bringing two forks. Of course. I don't know where I was going with that thought. That would be silly.

It's just then that Sam's very odd sister Amy walks into the kitchen looking all kinds of glamorous. She goes to Mckinley too, but she's a Freshman. Granted, she's the Queen of the Freshmen. She rules those ninth graders with an iron fist. "Sam, if you wish to continue on with your sinful, unholy behaviour, please do it somewhere out of the common areas." she says as she passes us. She opens the fridge before turning her head to face us. We're both staring at her. She's never said anything like that before. "Just kidding. It's always nice to see you Finn." She smiles. She does have a very weird sense of humor. She grabs a Vitamin Water from the fridge. Sam's entire family are big-time health nuts. Their fridge is full of vegetables, fruits and vitamin water. You couldn't find a bag of chips in their house to save your life. Amy then crosses the kitchen and opens one of the gigantic cupboards. She pulls out a bag of almonds before walking back towards wherever she came from. Before leaving she says, "have fun you two". And with a wink, she's gone.

Sam and I eat in moderate silence. It's a little strange how silent we are around each toehr. It feels like we've run out of things to talk about. After we finish, he puts the cheese covered plate in the sink and we head up the stairs to his room. We make out while the Sex Pistols play in the background. It's hot. And then he pulls away.

"I gotta pee," he says with the same expression I'm guessing I gave him two hours ago. And then he leaves me on his bed.

A/N. Each chapter will include a list of songs mentioned or sung. O! And in my world, Quinn is played by Mariah Carey. Seriously, I love Dianna Agron but I love Mariah more, plus I love Mariah's whistle notes. That's one of the things that bug me about Glee. No one hits a good whistle note. Oh and I've decided that while the focal point of this fic will be Sam and Finn, all the characters will have their own pieces of the narrative. And as families will be involved, I've cast a ton of new characters. I've also recast a few characters, you'll find out who in later chapters.

Songs in this Chapter:  
Thinking of You- Katy Perry  
If We Ever Meet Again - Timbaland feat. Katy Perry

Characters introduced in this Chapter:  
Sam's sister Amy who will be played by fabulous Summer Glau


	2. I'm So Sorry

~Sam Evans~

This night has been going totally... Amazing. I think tonight might be the night I finally say the "L" word. I think tonight I may finally tell Finn that I love him. I leave Finn on my bed, leaving to go to the blindingly white bathroom. I swear, my parents re-modeled this house to remind them of the mother ship.

This all really started a bit before we moved to Lima. I wanted to look good for a new school and to make new friends. And after I joined glee and met Finn, well it just got a little more intense. i mean, no one wants to look fat up on stage. Mercedes may be okay with being large, but I could never be.

That mac and cheese. It tasted so good and I feel totally guilty. Thousands die because they don't have enough to eat and I can eat a full meal and purge it. If there were any justice they would have food and I wouldn't. Those are the thoughts that goes through my head as I expel the contents of my stomach into the shiny white toilet bowl. It's yellow and lumpy. Ew. I flush it down and rinse out my mouth. The only thoughts that pass through my mind as I finish my purging routine are 'I'm so sorry Finn. It's all for you. I wish I could stop.'

I exit the bath room, almost running into Amy. She simply tsks and walks back towards her room. I'm pretty sure she knows my little secret.

The deep blue of the walls in my room have been soothing me to sleep for the past two months. It still wierds me out how short of a time we've lived in Lima. And I think Finn finds the blue soothing too because he's asleep in my bed. All curled up in my duvet.

His phone is lying on the nightstand next to my bed. He'd taken it out of his pocket before we started making out so that we wouldn't roll over in and break it. The Sex Pistols blares for no apparent reason. It was great to charge us both up and build the heat, but now it just seems so unneeded. I turn it off before grabbing Finn's phone. I go back into the hall so that I don't wake him up. I scroll through his contacts. Brittany, Home, Kurt, Mercedes, Mom, Quinn, Sam, and Santana. That's it. It's a little sad that those are all of the people he would truly want to talk to anywhere. He's such a great guy, I'm surprised that his phone isn't swarmed with people wanting to talk to him. I'm honored to be included though.

I select the contact labeled 'Mom' and listen to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. So I hang up and try the one 'Home'. One the fourth ring, a woman picks it up.

"Hello? Finn? Are you coming home now?" Her voice is full of worry and I realize Finn hasn't checked in all night with her. He and I stayed after school working with Quinn, Kurt and Mercedes for plans for a GSA for Mckinley and then we went on our date.  
"Hello. I'm guessing this is Carole then. This is Sam. Sam Evans. I know this is one of the weirdest ways for me to speak with you for the first time but Finn's asleep and I don't want to wake him. I just wanted to call and make sure it would be alright for Finn to spend the night. He just looks so peaceful." The silence on the other end of the line is palpable. "We are not having sex if that's what you're thinking."  
"It's what I'm thinking now." She says. I can hear the cynicism and the raised eyebrow in her voice. It is very becoming for some reason.  
"I promise. We're not. I could never think of doing...stuff so early on in this. Plus, Finn really is asleep!" There's a bit of beg in my voice.  
"Just have him home in the morning." There's a headshake in her voice. I know it.  
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson. Goodnight"

"Goodnight Sam." I hang up the phone and walk back into my room. I turn the light out and walk to my bed, stripping off my shirt. I lay down next to Finn, my bare chest touching the back of his shirt. I wrap my arm around him, my hand resting on his chest. Yes, we're spooning but I was trying not to say that. He stirs slightly when I rest my arm on him.

"Pancakes?" he asks, his voice full of sleep, raising his head up from the pillow.  
"Maybe later sweetie," I tell him.  
"Okay then," he mumbles and his head relaxes again.  
"Sing me a song?" he asks sleepily.

I try to think of a song that would be good for this moment. Got one! I start, my deep brassy baritone filling the cavernousness of my room.

**1 2, 1 2 3 4-**  
**Give me more lovin' than I've ever had,**  
**Make it all better when I'm feelin' sad,**  
**Tell me that I'm special even when I know I'm not,**  
**Make it feel good when I hurt so bad, Barely gettin' mad,**  
**I'm so glad I found you; I love bein' around you. **

**You make it easy, it's easy as 1,2- 1,2,3,4**  
**There's only 1 thing 2 do 3 words 4 you- (I love you) I love you**  
**There's only 1 way 2 say those 3 words and that's what I'll do -  
****I love you. **

**Give me more lovin' from the very start,**  
**Piece me back together when I fall apart,**  
**Tell me things you never even tell your closest friends-**  
**Make it feel good when I hurt so bad, Best that I've had,**  
**I'm so glad I found you, I love bein' around you. **

**You make it easy, it's easy as 1,2- 1,2,3,4**  
**There's only 1 thing 2 do 3 words 4 you- (I love you) I love you**  
**There's only 1 way 2 say those 3 words and that's what I'll do -**  
**I love you.**  
**I love you. **

**You make it easy, it's easy as 1,2- 1,2,3,4**  
**There's only 1 thing 2 do 3 words 4 you- (I love you) I love you**  
**There's only 1 way 2 say those 3 words and that's what I'll do -**  
**I love you.**

**I love you**  
**1, 2, 3, 4**  
**I love you**  
**I love you**

I think he's asleep. That was hard to do. I hate singing after purging. My throat feels so raw and my voice is never what it could be. As I begin to fall asleep, I can hear the sound of Amy and her whistle note. She is amazing. A pain, but amazing. I slip towards the clutches of sleep and there's only one thought left in my head before I finally succumb.

This has been one of the greatest nights ever.

* * *

~Amy Evans~

Sam. Sam. Sam. Why are you purging? Big brother, you're supposed to be the sane one. I hear him rinse out his mouth and O God he's coming to the door. I can hear him. Quick! Act like I'm walking by! And then we nearly collide. I just sold that shit. He walks back to his room and I can't help but quirk my eyebrow up and tsk.

I go back to my totally pink rom. Like legit, everything in my room is pink. Oh how I wish that I had had a say in the decorating of my room. It looks like the inside of a pepto bismol bottle. I grab my little bag of almonds from my dresser and my Vitamin Water. I apply some Victoria's Secret PINK lip balm before popping back a few almonds. Chew, chew swallow and now for some Vitamin Water. I finish it and put it down on my night stand. I plop down on my bed before realizing I forgot to shut off the light. I should really get a clapper. Clap on! Clap off! The Clapper! Whoa! Where the hell did that come from.

O Sam. I worry about you. I should tell mom and dad. Not like that would really help. Mom would think that it's great he's losing weight and dad would just bitch about how much the therapy would cost. I could take to that kind of annoying guidance counselor Ms. Pillsbury. But that would mean our family not coming off WASP-ish. Oh what to do? Oh shit. I should have studied for my algebra test tomorrow. Oh well. At least it's Friday. What was I thinking about? Oh right! Sam! Eh, I'm too tired to figure this out tonight. First thing tomorrow. Promise.

It's feeling really late. Like really late. I hit the play button on my docking station. The soundtrack to RENT starts to play. The opening bars of Seasons of Love hits my ears as my head this the pillow. Oh crap. Hair. In. My. Mouth. Ew. I throw my hair to the side and try putting my head down again.

**525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.**  
**525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?**  
**In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.**  
**In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.**

O my dear brother. You and Finn will measure for a long time. I can feel it. I toss and turn, unable to get comfortable on my own bed. ugh. In the world of emoticons, right now I'm colon capital S. I can't seem to find that place where I want to be that everything's all comfortable. Facing my nightstand, I read the label on my Vitamin Water. Essential.

_ah, orange juice commercials. funny stuff. mum cheerily prepares some huge breakfast while the rest of her family sleeps. sure, this could happen. but morning? please, maybe if mum were medicate, in which case, we wouldn't condone operating a stove or any electrical appliance._  
_for those who don't live in an orange juice commercial, there's still a way to get your morning vitamin C and calcium, so that you can get your day started right minus the whole stepford mum thing._

YES! I've found the comfortable spot. Oh Vitamin Water. Is there anything it can't fix? As the song is coming to its close, I chime in with Joanne.

**O You got to you got to remember love**  
**You know that love in a gift from up above**  
**Share now people now spread love**  
**Measure, measure your life in Love!**

My whistle note is perfect, despite the fact that I'm laying down. Sleep begins to close it's claws around me. Yes, I'm weird, I know! Live with it.

* * *

A/N: A short chapter. I know! What a rip eh? Chapter will be shorter compared to the first from now on and will shift between characters throughout.

Songs:  
1234 - Plain White Ts  
Seasons of Love - RENT Cast


	3. Just A Boring Friday

~Finn Hudson~

I wake up with Sam's arm around me. I roll to face him. He looks so peaceful. He must be even more tired then I was because he doesn't even stir when I moved. I don't know what time it is and I have no clue where my phone is. It's a Friday though. It means we don't have to worry about glee. Though I really have to work on our assignment. A ballad about our feelings. I haven't even started.

I mean, I don't even know what I feel. How the hell do I sing about what I don't even know? It's sad but I think that I've fallen out of the feelings I had for Sam. He's a great guy. And I really used to like him. But honestly, this feels so stale. Like popcorn that's been left out for an hour or two. He loves me. I know he does. But I just don't feel that way about him anymore. We learned about this in Sociology. The difference between infatuation and love. I've been feeling strongly towards Sam but lately my feelings have totally faded. Now I'm just indifferent to him. He's beige.

He's also shirtless, I realize; looking at his creamy white skin. Ugh. He's so hot! I do feel attracted to him physically, but we just don't click anymore. Like mentally. Y'know? Like he's pop music, Ke$ha , and Lady GaGa. I'm rock and roll, The Doors and The Rolling Stones. He's all happy-go-lucky and I'm kind of always indifferent and kinda sad. We're just so different.

Oh crap. It's Friday though! It's still a school day and from the amount of sun in the room, it looks quite a bit later than 8:30. I shake Sam. "Get up, get up, get up! We're soooo late!" I shoot out of his bed, realizing I'm still in the clothes I wore yesterday. And ew. I stink. I need a shower and clean clothes and to get to school. I have a test in eighth period today. Trigonometry. Ew.

"Morning sweetie," he says smiling up at me. Aw. When he looks at me like that it breaks my heart that I'm not totally attracted to him. In that look he puts all of his love and care for me. Kinda like a puppy. He looks totally adorable and vulnerable. And he also looks totally hot. It hits me again that he's shirtless, his abs crunching together.

"Come on!" I exclaim, "We're late. We're so fucking late! And I still need to stop at home to shower and change."

"Mmm, there's nothing we can do about that and rushing isn't going to change that fact that we're late. So how about you shower here, you can borrow some of my clothes and we go get breakfast. I know you want pancakes." he says the word 'pancakes' with a wink. It's a little weird that he knows that I want pancakes. O God. Is he in that weird mindset that some couples have where they know what the other is thinking and wants? Now I feel even worse about not really liking him.

I lean down and kiss him softly on the lips before saying, "that sounds great." I guess it's my way of making it up to him.

I find out that 'you shower here' means he's joining me in it. O. My. God. We've never gone passed making out and so I've never seen him naked. Wow. He makes me feel so inadequate. Compared to him I'm fat and...small. I feel so self-conscious that I nearly tell him not to join me but I still feel guilty about my feelings toward him so I let him. In the shower I try to stay as far away from him as I can, cleaning as fast and furiously as I can. I jump a little when I feel his arms close around my chest.

"Do you need a little help with your back?" he whispers into my ear, his voice rough and dusky.

"No, I can get it." I try to move out of his arms but he holds onto me tightly.

"Finn, what's wrong?" He turns me to face him. His face is full with worry. So is his voice when he says, "You've been acting really odd lately."

"I've just been a little tired lately. Cramming for tests. I had one in every subject this week." I give him a weak smile. "That's why I fell asleep in your bed." He gives me a look of suspicion.

"Are you sure that's all? Because you know you can talk to me about anything." Doubtful Sam. I don't know how you'd handle, 'I've been thinking about breaking up with you because we have nothing to talk about ever anymore'.

So instead of telling him that, I just sigh and tell him, "I know."

He still looks worried, but gives me some distance. He looks quite hurt though. I feel so bad. Damn it. He's a wonderful guy. He deserves someone who loves him too. Why can't I feel... excited and happy when I'm around him. I just feel depressed and tired. And guilty. So I just kiss him again which makes him smile. It's good to seem him smile. I hate bringing him down. Trying to lessen the duration of this discomfort, I wash even more quickly.

I step out of the shower and dry off as fast as I can, realizing that I will now smell like Sam. And let's face it, he does smell amazing. Rushing back to his room with a towel around my waist, I'm suddenly very aware that I'm naked under this towel. In Sam's house. I never would have thought this would be how I'd be more or less naked in a boyfriend's house for the first time.

Once in his room, I glance around, looking for my phone. I see it balanced on the rail at the foot of the bed. Who ever put it there is talented. I check my messages.

Kurt: _Where the hell are you, Clark assigned a monologue in first and you're late for second._  
Mercedes: _White boy, Oh hell to the no! You missed algebra. Our homework is pages 23-24 numbers 4,6,8,13 and 19._  
Mom: _Where are you Finn? You weren't home this morning and I called the school and they said you missed your first two classes._  
Quinn: _Finn! Where the fuck are you. People have been telling me you've missed two periods and that you haven't answered a single text. Now you have me worried. Normally I trust that you can take care of yourself but you cannot go this long without contact and expect everyone not to worry. Text ME back at the very least. And get your ass here now!_

Crap. I quickly text each of them back with the same message: _I'm okay. I just over-slept. Sorry for worrying you with an _added _thank you_ to Mercedes and Kurt for telling me the work I missed.

The I walk over to Sam's closet. Let me just say, I can understand why Sam spent so much of his time in here. It's a ginormous walk-in full of totally awesome clothes. I look around and grab a tee shirt that I think I would look kick-ass in. Puling it over my head, I realize just how much skinnier Sam is than me. The shirt clings to my body in every way I don't want it to. I go to the floor-to-ceiling mirror Sam has on his one wall. Looking into it, I see someone I vaguely know staring back. It's a chunky kid wearing a shirt two sizes too small, the fabric clutching every flab and fold. Ew. I look disgusting. I actually feel a single tear roll down my cheek. I can barely believe how big I am.

I don't notice Sam enter his closet until he wraps his arms around me. I still can't tear my eyes from the image staring back at me. I can't bear to look at myself, but also can't look away. I can only see every fault in my body. An once of fat here, extra skin there. It makes for a grotesque portrait.

"I think I have some clothes that would fit you better," Sam says with a cheeky little smile. He rummages through the deeper recesses of his closet and throws me some underwear, a red tee and jeans. While he busies himself getting dressed, I check the tags. XXL shirt and 42 waist for the jeans. Thanks Sam. Nice little shot to my ego first thing in the morning.

Holy crap. I think Sam may have undershot on the underwear size though because I think these boxer briefs are cutting off circulation to a mighty important area. I pull the shirt over my head and slip on the jeans. A small ego boost comes from that though. I'm not as big as Sam seems to think. The jeans and almost falling off and the shirt is like a tent.

I look over at Sam. He's still shirtless and bent over, looking through pairs of sneakers, Chucks and running shoes. "Um... Sam?" He turns and I point both of my thumbs to myself. He laughs and rummages through his clothes, looking for something else for me to wear.

"Sorry," he apologizes, handing me a green size Large shirt and jeans with a 35 waist and fashionable rips in the legs. "Those gigantic clothes were from when I was in the closet and would stress-eat every single day. I was massive" Woah. Sam used to be bigger than me. It's still a little insulting that he thought I would be large enough to fill out those clothes. But now I feel like a ton of sympathy for him. And that causes my slight anger to disappear. Then again, look how much he lost. If he can do it, why can't I?

When we're both dressed, Sam takes me by the hand and leads me through the enormity of his house. Suddenly I realize I forgot my phone on his dresser. "Hold on, forgot something." I walk back through the house. Holy crap. I just figured out how Sam lost all that weight. Getting through this ginormous house is a work out in itself. I walk back to see him perched up on the banister of the gigantic stair case that breaks into two. You know those? They like curl around the room in two different directions. And look really cool? When I get a house I will put in a set of there stairs, even if they lead to nowhere.

He kisses me and leads me out the door. We jump in the car and drive to the Waffle Mansion. Yes, Lima has a place called the Waffle Mansion. We have the Waffle House, the Waffle Hut and the Waffle Mansion. This town loves waffles more than life itself.

The floors of the Waffle Mansion are stickier than in a McDonalds and the furniture is incredibly cheesy looking. It's all red and yellow and purple. And the pancakes are the worst in town. Sam hasn't lived in Lima long enough to know that though, so I don't give him a hard time about it. I force down the pancakes, but they leave a massive lump in my throat like I just dry swallowed a pill. Ew. And no maple syrup because I decided that I'm going to start losing weight today so that didn't make the swallowing of extremely dry pancakes any easier. After I finish choking back the pancakes, I wait for Sam to finish in the bathroom. He can really pound back those dry pancakes.

He comes back. But his eyes are all blood shot. "Are you okay?" I ask him with genuine concern.

"I'm good," he practically whispers in a croaky voice. I still don't believe him because he didn't look like shit when he left the table. However my lack of caring keeps me from asking anything else. I know I'm a terrible person okay! It's not like I don't try not to be. There's a few double negatives in there so I'll give you a sec to figure it out. I'll be waiting at camera three.

Ya here? Good. On with the story. We leave the Waffle Mansion, neither of us speaking much. Sam possibly because he's about to puke, me because I just don't care. And Just a quick car ride later, I'm at school. William McKinley High School. An unimpressive brown brick school nestled between two neither bad nor good neighborhoods. But my lord even the scenery is boring. I feel like drifting right off the sleep. Sigh. It's going to be a long day.

* * *

I'm pretty sure I flunked my Trig test. Ugh. The day was just plain uggful. Ugly and terrible. The only thing that kept me awake through my final five period of the day were Santana trying to flirt with me and Quinn, Mercedes and Kurt nattering on about the GSA project as they called it. Sometimes I swear, they are just too damn campy. I walk outside and the sun is shining. Shockingly it does nothing to lighten my mood.

Sam's leaning against his car looking all innocent and yet still bad boy-ish. It's hot, I won't deny, but jeez does he have to look perfect all the damn time? It's not fair. I never look perfect.

As I approach, he greets me with a kiss. "So can you come over tonight? Amy and I were going to get a bunch of bad movies. Bound to be a good time," He says with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. Ugh. He's too damn happy. "I can't," I tell him. "My mom got a hold of me at lunch and yelled my ear off and now I'm grounded until the cows come home to put it in her words."

I give him a smile that's says I'm sorry before he opens the door for me and I hop in. "Why thank you kind sir," I say in a terrible English accent. He replies, "You're quite welcome fair sir." I think I just remembered why I like him. No matter what I go off on, he always follows.

He drops me off in front of my house and kisses me before saying "see you on Monday then. I stand and watch his car as it turns the corner before going inside. It's going to be a long two days. Sigh. Well time to finish my homework so I can just lay around the house for the weekend.

* * *

A/N: My next update will consist of two shorter chapters from two characters we haven't heard from yet. Expect them soon though. Sorry it took so long to update but shit was goin' on and I got caught up in it.  
Also, My Sam likes musicians who can actually kind of sing at the very least. He fo sho hates the Biebs.


	4. A Bad Weekend For Santana

~Santana Lopez~

*Sigh* It's been a long week. I drive my silver Corolla through Lima Heights before coming into the Lima height Adjacent territory of Lima, Ohio. I definitely aced that goddamn trig test. Unlike Finn. That poor white boy will never pass one of those stupid tests. I think they're actually pitifully easy. I haven't gotten anything less than a 98 on any of them since the year began. I'm actually pretty sure I've maintained a 4.0 GPA all year... I could be valedictorian. Not that anyone thinks I ever could. All they see is a hot Latina piece of ass. Not that I care for the leers of the stupid nerd boys and jock assholes that populate my school. I only want that look from one person.

Brittany Susan Pierce. My first true love. Not that I can exactly come out with it. Having a vile, racist, homophobic grandmother can do that to a girl. Add that to a mother blind to her own mother's abuse of her children. And slap on a clueless father who works as much as he can. And then stick in two younger siblings who participate in as many after school activities to avoid being at home and there you have my big fat fucking happy family.

I pull into the drive way of the single-storied house that is my personal hell slash family house. Not home; house. In the words of Dionne Warwick, "a house is not a home". And let me tell you, this is barely a house.

I go inside, careful to shut the door gently behind me. Grandmother can be quite angry if woken up from her late-afternoon nap. You know, late afternoon nap? It's right between mid afternoon- and early evening nap? I swear that woman does nothing but sleep and wake up long enough to get drunk and take out some imagined frustration on me. Or Juan. Or Maria. I fucking hate her.

The living room, if you can call it that, is a total mess as usual. I swear this house decays while I'm at school. I try to step as delicately between the piles of crap as I can. This ultimately fails as I fall flat on my face with an 'umph'. To defeated by my own house to stand back up, I settle with crawling my way through.

I get to the bathroom first. I finally stand up, having taken like ten minutes to crawl through all the crap. I stare at the bathroom scale. It's silently mocking me. I've been steadily putting on weight, bit by bit, since I turned 16. Coach Sylvester has a rule about 'no fatties'. No one over 145 pounds. At last weigh-in, I was pushing 144. Sue is borderline Nazi-ish about my weight. Last week, I found out she'd been slipping laxatives into everything in the cafeteria in an effort to make me lose weight. I swear the only reason she hasn't cut me is because I'm the only person who can get the triple back-flip just right.

I kick off my flats and step on the scale with my eyes closed. I bit my bottom lip, fearing what kind of number I might see. Opening my eyes, I see my fear realized. 146. I gained two pounds in three days. Fuck. Tears brim in my eyes as my hopes for a cheerleading scholarship burn in a hellish fire.

I cross the hall to my room. I poke at the power button on my computer. I've got to find a ballad about my feelings for glee club. That would be much easier if I knew my feelings. Or could reasonably lie about them. The only things I feel these days is rage. A lot of rage. And I'm sure there's not a lot of songs about that. At least not tuneful songs. Maybe some death metal song is about rage, but I don't listen to enough of that to know.

Rage... and longing. Longing to love a girl that I just can't. Not with my family. Not with this country. Not with this school. Not in this life. My thoughts turn to a familiar territory that's borderline suicidal. Not thinking about the act, but the consequences.

I ponder whether the world would notice if I were gone. Juan and Maria would get more beating from Grandmother, but would they notice me not being there? Would Britt notice or would she simply be fucking some guy? Would the glee club notice? Would Mr. Schue get up in front of them all and give some preachy lecture and tell them that they could talk to him about anything? Would I become the subject of an after-school special; **Come Out or You'll Kill Yourself**? Would there be a memorial service? Would anyone come? Would there be a school assembly where people would make up nice things to say about me? Would the Glee club get up and sing some sappy, maudlin song? Would the world care if I were gone?

My slow-ass computer jars me out of my reverie, beeping to tell me that it's finally ready. I start up iTunes and start sifting through my music. Hmmm. Now who would have a good lesbian love song? Of course! Melissa Etheridge, duh. _Come to my Window_; it's perfect. I click it and my old speakers begin to spill the powerful alto's song, crackling the notes with their age. I add my voice, matching each note perfectly, ism-ing wherever I want; not that my talent would ever land me a major solo.

**Come to my window**  
**Crawl inside, wait by the light**  
**of the moon**  
**Come to my window**  
**I'll be home soon**

**I would dial the numbers**  
**Just to listen to your breath**  
**I would stand inside my hell**  
**And hold the hand of death**  
**You don't know how far I'd go**  
**To ease this precious ache**  
**You don't know how much I'd give**  
**Or how much I can take**  
**Just to reach you**  
**Just to reach you**  
**Just to reach you-oo-oo-oo-oh!**

**Come to my window-ow-ah-oh!**  
**Crawl inside, wait by the light**  
**of the moon!-**

My door opens violently, the knob striking the wall and cracking the already chipped plaster. My grandmother stands in the door way, eyes wild, hair in a high-piled disarray, belt in hand. Oh shit.

"Turn that no-talent dyke off, you little spic bitch!" she growls in her throaty, gritty voice. She flicks her wrist and the belt snaps out at my face. It makes contact and I don't feel the pain at first. I'm thrown to the floor by the force of the blow and then the pain crashes over me like a breaking wave. Tears spring to my eyes and I bite back the urge to scream out in pain.

I pull myself up off the ground and cross my room to my computer. I hit the pause button and turn to stare at my grandmother with a look of pure unmitigated hatred.

"That's better," she said with a self-satisfied smirk. She leaves and I'm left standing in the middle of my room, shaking with rage and pain and hatred and sadness. I go to my door and close it in a non-lucid calm. I collapse on my bed and begin to sob into my pillow. The sobbing grows into screams. Screams never to be heard by anyone, muffled by the pillow. I scream until my voice is nothing but broken, hoarse yelps. Then I yelp until it's too painful to make any audible sounds. Then, thoroughly tired out, I slip into sleep.

* * *

I wake up at the sound of the front door slamming. Someone else is home. I glance over at the clock. It's 4:30. Juan's home. I don't move from my spot on my bed. I just listen to him make his own way through the void of entropy that is the living room. I hear him go to his room and drop his football equipment to the floor with a heavy thump. He then comes to my door, gently tapping at it.

"San, you home?" he calls in, his high tenor soft and almost fearful.  
"Yeah. Come in," I respond without looking up. He enters my room almost soundlessly and comes to my bed. He pokes me gently in the back with a finger.

I turn over to look him in the eye and scrunch up my nose. "You reek, little brother. Did you roll in raw sewage?" But he doesn't laugh or respond with a joke. He just inhales sharply.

"Jesus Christ, mi dios!" he exclaims thinly, his face blanched. He reached out with two fingers and brushes them gently just beneath my eye. It stings and I jerk back hard. "What the hell did she do?" And then I remember.

"The belt," is all I have to say before his eyes darken and his teeth clench together hard enough to make his jaw pop out at the bottom. "That fucking bitch," he muttered, sotto voce. We stare at each other for a while, not knowing what else to say. He finally breaks the silence to make mindless small-talk. I participate only to occupy my mind and drown out the screams and cries of mental anguish.

After a bit of time I send Juan to go do his homework. I hear the front door open and close again at 5:30. Maria's home. She's a Cheerio too, but she doesn't like to be seen getting driven home by her sister, the sad chunky Cheerio. She normally leaves with her friends and hangs out with them for a few hours.

She pokes her head in long enough for a, "hey Santana," before she goes to her own room. A couple hours later mom and dad come home and begin to busy themselves with dinner. Neither come to see me or Juan or Maria, though mom goes to check on grandmother.

At around 7, Maria pokes her head into my room again to ask me if I wanted to run with her. I agree and pull on a pair of running shoes that don't have holes in them. The sky is darkening quickly, light blue giving way to violet and then to navy. Maria's tired after a couple miles and wants to go home. I tell her to start back on her own then as I keep running. She gives up trying to continue on with me and heads back the way we came.

I keep running. I run farther from home. Farther from Cheerios. Farther from grandmother. Farther from lesbian love songs. I run from Santana Lopez; the perfect little Latina cheerleader, singer, and genius.

I run as Santana Lopez, the fat dyke back-up singer. I run and run, legs burning, feet throbbing, sweat and tears stinging my eyes. I run from all my pain. I just keep running.

* * *

I get home around 9:30-ish. Every part of my body is aching. I walk past the kitchen, yelling 'no!' when mom asks if I'm hungry. I walk past grandmother who smirks again at the sight of my bruise. I grab some clothes that don't smell too bad from my room and I go to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and let the scalding hot water pour over my skin. I sit in the shower and cry, letting myself feel sorry for myself for once. I step out of the shower after half an hour and towel off my now-scarlet skin.

Looking in the mirror I see my bruise for the first time. It looks like a half-moon just under my left eye. I look like the stereotypical battered woman. I suppose I am a battered granddaughter. My face is puffy from the bruise, from crying, from sweating, and from the steamy shower. I look beaten and broken by the world.

Once I'm dry, I step back onto the scale, more hopeful than I should be. I open my eyes after what feels like an eternity to look at the numbers that I fear.

144. Tears jump to my eyes at renewed hope. I begin to pick up the pieces of dreams for a cheerleading scholarship. C'mon 144; hold out until the next weigh-in.

* * *

The rest of my weekend is spent avoiding grandmother, mother, and father. I avoid food and thinking about food. I ignore my hunger and I run when I feel the cravings build. But mostly, I sit in my room and cry, letting self-pity consume me for once. By the time Sunday midnight rolls around, I'm at 142. I'm gnawing at the inside of my cheek. My bruise is green and looks like an infected mark of shame. I still don't have a song for glee.

I lie in bed, trying to sleep. I force myself to swallow my fears and anxieties. I let the tears stream down my face and hunger gnaw at my stomach like a rat.

As I finally begin to slip into sleep, one thought remains in my head: I hate my life.

* * *

AN: there's only one song in this chapter, Come To My Window from Melissa Etheridge. There's more in chapter 5, so keep readin. And, of course, review.

Characters introduced in this Chapter:  
Santana's Grandmother, played by Liza Minnelli  
Santana's brother, played by Taylor Lautner  
Santana's sister, played by Alexa Vega  
Santana's mom played by Linda Ronstadt


	5. And A Good One For Tina Kinda

~Tina Cohen-Chang~

I feel happy enough to fly. It's the weekend and Mike and I are going to have sex for the first time. His parents are away and this is going to be the most magical night ever. And I must have totally made my mother proud because I aced that trig test in eighth period. Though that's mostly thanks to Grandma Cohen. She's like some math genius. She solved something and ended World War 2 like five years early or something... I have got to start paying attention when she talks.

My weekend is off to a great start. I skip out the front doors of the school. Which is something that most people will never see. A skipping goth chick. Mike's right outside, leaning against his black Honda Civic, looking all kinds of sexy. I leap on him.

"Hey baby!" I greet him with a big kiss on the cheek. "You ready for tonight?"  
He looks a little uncomfortable before responding, "Yeah."  
"What's wrong," I inquire, giving him my best worried expression.  
"Nothing!" He exclaims in a high pitched voice. "I'm really looking forward to it." This piques my suspicion that something may be wrong but I just let it go. He'll tell me if he wants to. So instead of nagging him, I just let him open my door and and hop in. He closes the door and goes to his, pulling it open and speeding me home.

* * *

I drop my bag in the front room next to the ugly chesterfield that my dad thinks is cute. Let me assure you; it's not. I meander into the kitchen and paw through our cupboards, looking for something not covered in green fuzz. With both parents working and my grandma in a home, there's not a whole lot of food that we keep in the house. Normally, someone just brings food home.

After searching through them all the cupboards, I find an unmarked tin in the last one. Peeking inside, I find unmoldy cookies. A rarity. No, a delicacy.

I make my way to my bed room munching the cookies. To begin with I didn't really care what kind they would be. Now I've found out that they're coconut haystacks. My favorite. Ka-bam. A well deserved treat for such a good week.

My room is unusually clean. The piles of clothes and books

that normally litter my floor have been relegated to the closet in preparation for the big night. I do my homework at the medium-sized oak desk my parents thought would make a good sixteenth birthday present. Not a car; not a trip; not tickets to a Katy Perry concert; not money; no no, a desk. As I do my homework at the infernal desk, West Side Story leaks out of my computer's speakers. I try to keep up with Marni Nixon and Leonard Bernstein on 'Tonight'.

**Tonight, tonight,**  
**It all began tonight.**  
**I saw you and the world went away.**

**Tonight, tonight**  
**There's only you tonight**  
**What you are, what you do, what you say**

**Today, all day I had the feeling**  
**A miracle would happen**  
**I know now I was right**

**For here you are**  
**And what was just a world is a star**  
**Tonight!**

I'm a bit sharp on the last 'tonight', the G5 is the top of my range and my throat tickles as I try to hit the note perfectly. If I practiced more, it'd be easy. My mezzo-soprano range, though, is over-shadowed by Rachel's and her belting power is orders of magnitude greater than mine. She'll always be the lead, not me. So I don't bother to practice too much. It's not worth it. I've come to this realization before but now, as it rears its head again, it saddens me into silence.

I finish all of my homework before I realize that the music's ended. I sit at my desk and stare at Marni Nixon's name in my iTunes. My name will never be where hers is. No one will want to buy my music. I exit iTunes. Enough of this depressing crap. Tonight's a happy occasion. I being to prepare my room for Mike's arrival.

* * *

Mike gets here about two hours after I did. He looks as sexy as ever; donned in a black leather jacket and black skinny jeans. His eyes hold none of the uneasiness from earlier today. I grab him by the back of the neck and push myself up as tall as I can on the tips of my toes to kiss him. His stiff frame melts at my kiss. My tongue parts his lips and I quickly gain dominance.

We back up against the wall and I kick the door closed. I pull off his jacket without breaking our kiss and throw it onto the chesterfield. My hands fly wildly over his thin tee shirt, feeling the raw strength in the cords of his muscles. We break the kiss and I pull him by the hand to my room. The small space is lit by the glow of about twenty candles. I turn to face Mike and I'm struck by his beauty. In the orange light his yellow-y features are like bronze.

I shove him onto my bed and drink in the sight of him on my bed, staring up at me with wide coppery eyes. I go to my computer. My iTunes is open again; a playlist called Love queued up. I hit play and turn back to Mike. The first song begins and I add my voice to the Dusty Springfield's warm and sensual alto.

**The look of love is in your eyes**  
**The look your heart can't disguise**  
**The look of love is saying so much more**  
**Than just words could ever say**  
**And what my heart has heard**  
**Well, it takes my breath away**

I pull my shirt over my head as I sing and begin to move with the music. I'm not a great dancer but sexual dancing is not that hard to figure out. I let my curves move in smooth circular motions, making them look bigger than they actually are. The glow of the candle light plays across my skin and makes my skin look like liquid copper.

I look at Mike down on the bed. I can tell he's aroused. His dick is straining against his jeans, his eyes are filled with a raw hunger. I pull myself over his body to kiss him hard. My hands grope for the hem of his shirt. Finding it I roughly pull it over his head. He comes up with his shirt into a sitting position. I place one hand on his steel chest and shove him hard again. He lands back on the bed, looking up at me. I'm straddling him and I can feel his hard dick against my butt. I love looking down on him like this, like I have some great power over him, something that feeds his sexual hunger.

I move in to kiss him again. This time I bite his lip. Hard, but not too hard. More firm than hard I suppose. He likes it though and his dick strains even harder against me. My bra is gone before I've realized he'd even unhooked it. I pull away and sit straddled above him again.

His lips are red and puffy. His breathing is coming out in shallow pants. He's about to burst. i just know it. I reach over and pick up the condom in a golden wrapper that I had on my nightstand. I've given Mike a few blowjobs so I knew an approximate size to get. I tear the wrapper with my teeth and put the little rubbed circle on his chest. I shimmy down to sit on his knees before I start to pull at his belt.

I get his pants off and start rubbing his erection through his boxer briefs. He's gasping in pleasure, his eyes half-closed. I smirk and pull them off. His dick springs up and nearly hits me in the eye. Mike single-handedly refutes the myth of the small-dicked Asian. I give it a few licks before I peel the condom off his chest and roll it down his dick. Mike's murmuring incoherently now and he's past conscious thoughts. There's only pleasure in his mind.

I stand on the bed, one foot on each side of him. I pull off my panties and straddle him again. I take him inside me and immediately he's moaning. It hurts, but not greatly. Like a punch that will bruise later. I swallow back a lump of discomfort that forms in my throat. I begin to ride him slowly, picking up speed each time. It hurts less and less each time, until it feels like a minor inconvenience like patch of dry skin on my nose or poking a very old bruise.

Mike's come back to the world of the conscious and he begins to thrust up as I'm riding him. He starts to angle his thrusts and soon he's hitting that one spot over and over. My head's throw back in ecstasy and I'm past moaning. I'm whistle-scream-yelp-ing in pleasure.

He hits his peak and I feel him burst into the condom, warmth spreading. I keep pumping up and down on him, climbing closer and closer to my climax. After one final hit, I feel waves of pleasure and pink crash over me. I start moaning and crying out, my orgasm continuing on for what feels like forever.

Coming down from our respective orgasms, we're both panting and gasping for air. I roll off of him and lie their, my skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

"That.. was... amazing..." He stammers out in a breathy tone. I nod , too exhausted to vocalize any thought. I slid off my bed onto shaking legs and unsure feet. I go to my white, spotless bathroom and flick on the lights. I close the door and stare at myself in the mirror. My moderately yellow features are flushed red. My hair is messy beyond repair without a shower. I turn on the faucet and splash myself with some cool water. I collect my thoughts and catch my breath. That was truly incredible.

"Um, Tina!" Mike calls out.  
"Yes," I reply through the door.  
"Tina. Um, the condom ... Um.. The condom broke!" He yells through the door. All the red drains from my face and I go past yellow straight to pasty white. I pull at the door open and stare at him from the door. "What," I demand, my voice dangerously calm.  
"It broke," he declares again lamely. He holds up the condom with his semen in it and turns it so that I see the hole.  
"Oh God," I groan, backing up into the bathroom again. I slam the door and stumble to the toilet. I puke hard into the bowl and cough a few times. I hear Mike get up off the bed and come to the bathroom door. "Stay out," I holler, my voice cracking because of the acid.  
"Are you okay," he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.  
"Just go Mike. I'm.. I'm fine, but I need you to go."  
"Okay," he says. "I'll call you later. I love you."  
"I love you too," I reply weakly, before I start sobbing softly into the toilet.

* * *

It's a couple hours before I move from the toilet. My thoughts begin to wander to what happens next. I do my period math in my head and realize that it is indeed my fucking ovulation time. I brush my teeth and go to my computer. iTunes is still open, though the music is done now. I open the internet browser and start to Google teen pregnancy statistics and the odds of conception. By the time I'm done, I'm a little calmer and I'm no longer as worried.

I start cleaning the remains of my sexual escapade, blowing out candles and pulling the sheets off my beds. My iTunes plays selections from Once On This Island and I begin to sing along with LaChanze, the song matching perfectly with my feelings.

**A stranger!**  
**Racing down the beach**  
**Racing to places**  
**I was meant to reach**  
**My stranger**  
**One day you'll arrive**  
**The car will stop**  
**And in I'll hop**  
**And off we'll drive...We'll drive!**

**Oh, gods**  
**Oh, gods**  
**Please, be there**  
**Don't you remember**  
**Your little Ti Moune from the tree**  
**Wake up!**  
**Look down!**  
**Hear my prayer**  
**Don't single me out**  
**And then forget me...**

**Oh gods, oh gods**  
**Let me fly**

**Send me to places **  
**No one before me has been**

**You spared my life**  
**Show me why**

**You get me to rise**  
**Like a fish to the bait**  
**And tell me to wait**  
**Well, I'm waiting...**

**Waiting for **  
**Life to **  
**Begin!**

**Waiting for**  
**Life to**  
**Begin!**

* * *

The rest of my weekend creeps by with me in a listless haze. I lie around the house and don't do anything. Mike texts me every hour until my inbox is full. Then he starts to e-mail me every hour. I don't answer and just wait for the weekend to be over.

* * *

AN: Songs in this Chapter are:  
Tonight - Westside Story  
The Look of Love - Dusty Springfield  
Waiting For Life - Once On This Island

After some thinking, I've re-cast two more characters.

Kurt will be played by Sam Tsui. Sam has such a great voice, he can hit those high notes without falsetto, and he's totally cute. Chris Colfer has a voice that lack warmth, his falsetto is whiny and pitchy at best, and his belts are unsupported which leads to a thin sounding screech that is just plain unpleasant. That just made a ton of Chris Colfer fan want to kill me... Oh well. That's a professional vocalist's opinion.

Mercedes is going to be played by the wonderfully talented Toya Alexis. If you've never heard of her, because you know, you're not Canadian, look her up on YouTube. Search for 'Toya Alexis If You Really Love Me'. She sings the hell out of Stevie Wonder and hits a really sweet whistle note. In my opinion she's an incredibly talented vocalists who lacks the adequate recognition for someone of her vocal weight and ability.

When you don't review, school children find dead hamsters under their beds.


	6. Monday Morning Dream Sequence

(Dream Sequence. Stage directions/ camera shots will be in brackets[].)

[alarm clock one]: beep beep beep [Finn slaps it]  
[alarm clock two]: duh duh duh duh [Rachel gently pokes at it]  
[alarm clock three]: uhr uhr uhr [Will slams his fist on the top of it]  
[alarm clock four] boop boop boop boop [Sue places her hand on the sleep button]  
[Opening movement]

[Rachel sits up]: Tumble outta bed  
And stumble to the kitchen  
[Willl yawns over a cup of coffee]: Pour myself a cup of ambition  
Yawnin' and stretchin' and try to come to life

[Finn in th shower]: Jump in the shower  
And the blood starts pumpin'  
[Sue behind the wheel of a car]: Out on the streets  
The traffic starts jumpin'  
[All four together]: With folks like me on the job from 9 to 5

Workin' 9 to 5  
What a way to make a livin'  
Barely gettin' by  
It's all takin'  
And no givin'  
They just use your mind  
And they never give you credit  
It's enough to drive you  
Crazy if you let it

[fade out]

* * *

AN: this is obviously not an actual chapter but a dream sequence like Season One's You Keep Me Hanging On or Season Two's Me Against The Music. It's just a random piece of music that I think would be cool to hear covered by the glee cast. The song is 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton.


	7. A New Week

~Finn Hudson~

It had been a long weekend. I sat around the house and watched boring re-runs of _Cowboy Cop Robot Western_ until my mom told me to go read so she could watch her soaps.

Monday morning I see Sam again. He bounds up to my locker like an over-excited puppy. He kisses me and starts to prattle on about how much he had missed me; I mentally undress him and ignore his babblings. I am a terrible human being.

Monday flies by in a blur of nothingness. Mister Schuester gives us another bogus assignment. Lunch brings Mercedes and Kurt rambling about GSA plans. Quinn patiently tries her best to help me understand Trig ratios, though they're still beyond me. At home I put off doing my homework, jacking off to porn and watching videos of kittens cartwheeling.

Tuesday's here and Glee practice gives me a reason to look forward to the end of the day. I hand in a sloppy half-done assignment to Mister Schue. He barely looks at it and simply hands it back with a big "F" written in red.

"C'mon Finn, you can do better than this," he tells me with a disapproving frown. Screw him. It was a stupid assignment. Describe your ideal romantic date. Kind of hard to do that when you don't care about romance.

Fifth period I try to look like I care about what Mercedes and Kurt are talking about. Quinn actuall has to elbow me several times in the ribs when I don't answer direct questions. Kurt and Mercedes must have realized I'm ignoring them because they stop talking to me all together and re-focus their efforts on Tina and Mike.

Quinn grabs me by the arm. "What the hell's wrong with you lately? You keep ignoring people and acting like nothing exists. What gives," she asks, genuine concern in her voice.

"Um, nothing..." I begin, but fail under her gaze when she raises a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't know. It just feels like nothing matters. I don't feel anything anymore."

"Is this about Sam?"

"No... Not really... Kinda... Yes," I conclude, unable to lie to Quinn. "I don't feel anything anymore. It was nice when we first started going out and things we're really hot. But now, there's no heat. And I just feel like I'm leading him on. Am I leading him on?"

"No, no, Finn I know you. You're not that kind of guy. You're sweet and kind and you'd never lead someone on. This is just a phase. I felt the same thing a few months after we started going out."

"You mean when you started doing Puck?" My question hurts her; I can read it in her face. "I'm sorry."

"That was low Finn. I'm just trying to help. If you really think you're leading Sam on then break up with him. But if you think, even for a second that this is just a phase, then stick with it." She's trying to wrap up this conversation. She's in stony Quinn mode.

"Thanks," I finish lamely. Quinn turns away and joins into Mercedes explanation of 1970s soul music. A few minutes later, the lunch bell rings and I shoot out of my seat; only three more classes to go.

* * *

We're all in the choir room except Sam and Rachel. Sam wasn't at lunch either. Mr Schue keeps looking at his watch impatiently and I know he wants to start soon. Everyone's chattering about stupid little things before Mister Schue calls for silence.

"We've got to start; Sam or no Sam, Rachel or no Rachel. We've got to start planning to Regionals. We skated through Sectionals by the skin of our teeth guys so we've got to make a strong show."

"Uh, Mister Schuester?' Chaim the guitarist interjects. "The band has to start something." Mister Schue looks confused before giving them a wave of approval. The jazz ensemble start an upbeat, bouncy tune. A few seconds in, Sam slides through the choir room door, singing.

**It's a beautiful night, **  
**We're looking for something dumb to do. **  
**Hey baby, **  
**I think I wanna marry you.**

My God, he's cute. He's all smiles and green eyes that almost glow. He circles around the room to come up behind me and wrap his arms around my chest. He hugs me tightly and, being ticklish, I laugh and squirm.

**Is it the look in your eyes, **  
**Or is it this dancing juice? **  
**Who cares baby, **  
**I think I wanna marry you.**

Everyone's up on their feet now, dancing and singing along. Bruno Mars is a favorite of New Directions so we all know the lyrics.

**Well I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go, **  
**No one will know, **  
**Come on girl. **  
**Who cares if we're trashed got a pocket full of cash we can blow, **  
**Shots of patron, **  
**And it's on girl. **

**Don't say no, no, no, no-no; **  
**Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah; **  
**And we'll go, go, go, go-go. **  
**If you're ready, like I'm ready. **

Sam and I've fallen to the floor and the other don't seem to notice. They keep singing and dancing. Sam's rubbing me stomach and laughing. I laugh to and I feel really happy. Maybe Quinn's right. It was just a phase. "We should probably get up before they notice,' he whispers into my ear. I nod and we get up to join in on the last chorus.

**Is it the look in your eyes, **  
**Or is it this dancing juice? **  
**Who cares baby, **  
**I think I wanna marry you.**

The song ends and we all sit down laughing and singing random lines again. I actually join in the shared joy, feeling at home in the glee club again.

"That was very nice Sam; a great performance and a strong contender in the competition," Mister Schue proclaims. "Oh that's right, I haven't told you guys yet. The person who signs the most heartfelt ballad and displays the most skill in vocal mechanics will get to sing the ballad at Nationals." Holy crap! The glee club breaks out into a giant conversation between all of us over this new information. "This changes everything" seems to be the general agreement.

"So, thinking a bit more myopically, Regionals -", Mister Schue's cut short by a rapping at the door.

Rachel's there dressed in biker chick wear. She's decked in black skinny jeans, a leather jacket, thigh high leather boots and think black eye-liner. Dear God, she looks like some kind of female-Danny-Zuko-impersonator whore.

"I've got my ballad done," she announces in a voice that can only be her attempt at sounding sexy. Once again Mister Schue can only give the 'go for it' wave. Rachel nods at the band, some of who roll their eyes before they start playing. A familiar throbbing beat is played before Rachel starts with a powerful mezzo.

**So I got my boots on,**  
**Got the right amount of leather**  
**And I'm doing me up with a black colored liner**  
**And I'm working my strut but I know it don't matter**  
**All we need in this world is some love**

**There's a thin line between the dark side,**  
**And the light side, baby tonight**  
**It's a struggle gotta rumble, tryna find it**

Her dancing is so sexualized it's actually a little offensive.

**_But if I had you,  
That would be the only thing I'd ever need  
Yeah if I had you,  
Then money, fame and fortune never could compete  
If I had you,  
Life would be a party, it'd be ecstasy  
Yeah, if I had you  
Y-y-y-y-y-you  
Y-y-y-y-y-you  
Y-y-y-y-y-you  
If I had you_**

Everyone knows who this song is for. Her pointing eliminates all doubt. This doesn't really make me mad like her obvious song to me used to. I just pity her. She seems so… sad. Mister Schue is trying to hide his eyes from her shameless dancing. She actually looks like a stripper without a pole, keeping her clothes on of course.

Quinn stands, proclaiming, "I've had enough of this shit." She starts to walk towards Rachel. Rachel doesn't seem to notice and continues to sing.

**_From New York to LA getting high rock and rolling  
Get a room trash it up 'til it's ten in-_ **Ah!

Quinn has Rachel by the hair, pulling her towards the door. Mister Schue gets up to go try to stop Quinn but Santana heads him off.

"Mister Schue, Quinn's pulled me out of rooms like that when I've acted like a total idiot. It looks more painful than it is and once she's got you out she's actually really good at this kind of thing; talking sense into someone. Just give her a few minutes." Santana says all this in that tone of voice that she uses to convince someone of anything. It's how she convinced Kurt once that he could wear white after Labour day. Boy, that was a memorable day.

Mister Schue looks at her and seems to be trying to weigh the situation. "It was an awful performance," he concludes with an almost guilty smile. Santana smiles back before sitting back down with the rest of us.

"Alright, guys!" Mister Schue addresses the rest of us, "we've got to start thinking about Regionals!" I wonder what Quinn's saying or doing to Rachel out there.

* * *

~Quinn Fabray~

Rachel hair is surprisingly easy to hold, even with a squirming Rachel attached to it. This was not how or when I'd hoped I would give Rachel this talk, but the time seemed right. That was a disgusting performance.

"Okay listen man-hands, we need to talk," I yell, pushing her by the heads into a group of lockers. "By that, I mean you have to start listening! You have to cut this desperate-maudlin-Effie-White-fake-torch-song-bullshit. Enough is enough! It's time to move on!"

Rachel has her back to me, holding the back of her head. Then she turns to me and with eyes full of welled-up tears, says, "I can't! I don't know how!" Tears are streaming down her face, taking eye liner with them.

"I've only ever loved one guy and that guy was Finn! I miss him," she concludes with a whimpered whine. She looks unbelievably pitiable; crying in a school hallway. I wrap my arms around her, trying to hug her as naturally as I can. It's hard to do when someone's pissed you off for the past six weeks. Rachel's stiff in my embrace; shoulders shaking up and down as she cries.

"Listen, Rachel. You are an incredible singer. You are a great person when you're not obsessing over Finn or try to get him back. Your unsinkable spirit and ambition is truly admirable. You don't need Finn to be all those things. You just need to be you. Learn to love yourself and you'll find someone else who loves you just as much." This little spiel seems to work as Rachel's shoulders relax and she hugs me back. We stay like this for a couple minutes before Rachel pulls away. She's Tammy Fayed to the point of black-face. I can't help but laugh, hard.

"You have got to see yourself," I'm able to get out through a wheezing laugh. "You look ridiculous." Rachel gives me a weak smile and a quiet thanks. "Go clean up and come back to glee," I tell her, squeezing her shoulder. She nods and walks away.

Crazy bitch, I think with a slight smile before turning and going back to glee. She'll be alright.

* * *

~Sam Evans~

Glee practice went from fun to weird and back to fun. It's been nearly an hour since Rachel's creepy performance and we've been working on dance moves for Regionals.

"That's a good effort for today guys-" For the third time today Mister Schue is interrupted. This time it's by a small knock at the door. It's Rachel, finally back to practice. She's changed out of her leather-slut-wear. She's in a navy blue dress that covers most of her arms and ends at her knees. Her eyes are a little puffy and her whole face looks a little red, as if she'd scrubbed it hard. She has a few pieces of paper in her hands, clutching them tightly.

"Mister Schue, I know you guys are done and want to go home but I just… Could I try my ballad again," she asks in a small voice, her eyes downcast.

"Um.. I don't know about that Rachel. I just-"

"C'mon Mister Schue, we can go home in ten minutes. Rachel deserves a chance to sing." I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth. Mister Schue, now used to the interruptions, waves again.

"Thank you," Rachel mumbles, moving towards the piano. "Excuse me Brad," she says with a bit more confidence in her voice. The portly piano player gets up and takes a chair next to Mister Schue, arms crossed in a clearly judgmental look.

"Santana, could you give me a hand," she requests with a hopeful gaze at Santana. Santana gives Rachel a hard look and seems about to give Rachel a 'no' but Rachel's look must have worked because she gets up and goes to the piano.

"I just need some back-up. Your part is in parentheses." Rachel explains. Santana looks over the song quickly before her angry-tough girl façade breaks and she does something surprising. She hugs Rachel; briefly, but it's still a hug. Neither Rachel nor Santana seems to think it's as weird as the rest of us do.

Rachel starts too play, picking out a simple, slow melody; a very sad one. The melody alone is so captivating that all of us seemed to collectively jump a little when Rachel breaks in with her smooth and powerful mezzo-soprano.

**We had a good love  
But that moment has passed  
When your young no one tells you  
Something's are too good to last**

**My friends think I'm crazy**  
**The way that I carry on**  
**Cause when they ask me about you**  
**I tell them I just can't move on**

**'Cuz when I think of you I feel broken**  
**Holding on to pieces of words left unspoken**

**And...**  
**Ooh whoo (ooh whoo) I'm shattered**  
**Whenever I look at your face**  
**Ooh whoo (ooh whoo) I'm so shattered**  
**Cause I can't stop missing the one thing that I can't replace**

**yea...**

**Now I don't need nobody**  
**I'm independent and strong (yea...)**  
**And if the choir stops singing (oooh...)**  
**I'll just keep singing my song**

**But when I think of you I feel broken (yea...)**  
**Holding on to pieces of words left unspoken**

Both Santana and Rachel are crying. Santana is trying her best to hold back her tears and Rachel is looking down to hide her. But Santana's are streaming down her face and Rachel's are falling onto the piano. It makes for an unusual sight. Two girls who twenty minutes ago were enemies are side by side, crying.

* * *

~Will Schuster~

This is unbelievable. An hour ago Rachel was in here singing a horrid cover with offensively sexualized dancing. Now she's singing better than she ever has, emotion ringing in every syllable. This is definitely the best performance to ever come out of this club.

**And...**  
**Ooh whoo (ooh whoo) I'm shattered**  
**Whenever I look at your face**  
**Ooh whooo (ooh whoo) I'm so shattered**  
**Cause I can't stop missing the one thing that I can't replace**

**I still recall the tragedy, of how you fell away from me**  
**And I must confess my heart's still a mess**  
**And even though I'm stronger than, I used to be, it never ends**  
**The need to be with you cause baby I miss you**

Rachel then hits the most perfect breathy note I've ever heard. Even Quinn's whisper register couldn't compete with the emotion and perfect pitch of this note.

* * *

~Finn Husdson~

**And...**  
**Ooh whoo (ooh whoo) I'm shattered**  
**Whenever I look at your face**  
**Ooh whooo (ooh whoo) I'm so shattered**  
**Cause I can't stop missing the one thing that I can't replace**

**I'm shattered...(yea...)**

**Ooh whoo, I'm so shattered**  
**Cause I cant stop missing the one thing that I can't replace**

There are tears in my eyes. Looking around there are tears in everyone's eyes. Rachel stands up and looks at all of us. Her eyes are puffy, though she seems to be all cried out.

"Um.. Rachel, that was… spectacular," Mister Schue sputters out, his voice breaking a couple times. "I'm sorry Sam but Rachel is now the clear front-runner."

Sam gets up and all of us turn to him. But none of us expect what happens next. Sam strides to the piano and hugs Rachel, enveloping the small mezzo-soprano in his arms. Rachel's small arms wrap around Sam after a second of hesitation. This has been such a weird glee practice.

* * *

AN: I like this ending. Sam has no harsh feelings towards Rachel for her crazy action. A new chapter is coming soon. Reveiws help baby Jesus grow!

Song in this chapter:  
Marry You - Bruno Mars  
If I Had You - Adam Lambert  
Shattered - Kreesha Turner


	8. After Practice

~Finn Hudson~

Glee practice is over and we leave, everyone congratulating Rachel as we exit. Most of us turn right to head towards the parking lot.

"I'll be right out. I forgot my math book," I lie to Sam.

"Alright, but hurry back. I thought tonight you could come over and we could do stuff you missed out on this weekend," he says with a smile that makes me melt. He leaves and I turn around and bound back down the hall. I gotta find Rachel.

I slow down as I come to her hallway. She's at her locker and I can hear small whimpering sounds coming from her. Shit. She's crying. I hate it when girls cry.

"Rach?" I call out to her, unsure of what I'm going to say. I watch her rub her eyes before turning to face me.

"What Finn?" she asks, her voice breaking a couple times as she speaks.

"Um.. That song was… it was… Rachel, that was… incredible."

"Thank you, Finn." She says, her eyes staring down near my feet. Her can't even look me in the eye; she doesn't want me to see her tears.

I move closer to her without realizing it really. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She's so small that she seems to disappear into my chest. I look down on my ex-girlfriend enveloped in my arms. She looks so helpless and tiny.

"Rachel… I… I never stopped loving you either, you know. I just… couldn't do it any more. I still… I still love you Rachel." I shocked at the words as I'm saying them.

Rachel is too apparently as she look up at me and with rounded eyes says, "really?" Looking down, seeing the strong, confident and sure Rachel so vulnerable, I can't bring myself to deny it.

She buries her face back into me chest before I say, "of course I love you Rach. You were there to support me through all the Quinn-prego drama. You comforted me after the whole Quinn-Puck thing came out. You and I dated for a few months. I fell in love with you and I still haven't fallen out. I do love you Rachel. I love you."

I look down at the small girl in my arms. Rachel looks back up at me with tear filled eyes. I didn't realize that our faces were so close together. I've never noticed how brown her eyes are. Or how good she smells; like roses and lilac. Or how full her lips are… How could I have not notice her lips? Her lips… her lips which are… coming closer and closer… or are mine going to her?

Our lips brush gently against each other, hesitantly. Then we press together harder, lips parting and tongues caressing each other. Time seems to stand still as we kiss for what feels like an hour. This makes me worry about the time. I don't want Sam to come looking for me. I pull away.

"I can't do this Rach. I can't love you anymore. I love Sam now." It hits me. I love Sam. I REALLY love him. Kissing Rachel has weirdly made me realized how much I love Sam. "I really love him," I unconsciously repeat out loud. I look at Rachel and her eyes well up with tears and her expression could only be called crushed.

"I'm sorry Rachel, but I have to go." I turn tail and run back towards Sam.

He's not waiting at the door like he usually does so I have to scurry through the drizzling rain. He's in his car by the time I get there. I pull open the passenger door, jump in, and throw myself over to kiss Sam harder than I ever have. We're soon making out passionately and it's several minutes before we part. Both of us are a little breathless.

"What was that for," he asks in between pants. I open my eyes to look into his and really look into them. I see the swirls or green and blue that are like, hypnotizing.

"Because I fucking love you," I tell him, my voice coming out rough and growling. "Can't that be enough."

I pull him in for another hard kiss. I feel the familiar pressure building down there. I begin to call up the mailman before another image flits into my mind. Rachel's crushed expression, hereyes full of tears. I immediately feel the bubbling go away and I don't really feel like kissing anymore. I feel like admitting what happened.

But I don't. Instead I pull away and we both sit in the mist of heat that we made.

"So what did you want to do tonight," I ask him, breathing out heavily.

He chuckles softly before murmuring, "you'll see." There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he starts the engine and we pull out of the parking lot.

* * *

~Jacob Ben Israel~

I can't believe what I just saw. The fresh out of the closet fag Finn trying to suck the face off of my Jewish goddess. It's a good thing that my camera is silent. Got a few nice juicy close-up shots. Inside the locker across from Rachel's is the best place to watch her.

Homo-Finn leaves and Rachel is weeping softly. If I come out now, it would only creep her out. It's a while before Rachel finally closes her locker and begins to walk away. I wait for her to get a bit down the hall before I pry myself out of the cramped locker. I jog a bit to catch up with the Hebrew goddess.

"So Rachel, I hear you're single again. You and I should find a nice field in which we can make some nice little Yiddi-lings." Rachel turns to me with big brown eyes filled with tears and some emotion I've never seen there. I don't know what to call it.

"Go to hell Jacob. There is no way in hell I would ever fuck you," she growls emphatically. I've never heard her swear before. "Quite frankly, any woman who would fuck you is an idiot and probably expects to get paid for it." That hurt. Fuck her.

"You'll be sorry," I call after her as she leaves the school.

* * *

~Quinn Fabray~

Divorced parents suck. Dad can't care to see me more than once a month, if that, and he's always drunk when he does. Is it any wonder I smoke to relieve my stress? Is it any wonder he was fired from his job?

Mom could only get a crappy job as a receptionist at the fleabag Lima Motel. Therefore, I'm not exactly swimming in luxury anymore. Of course their divorce would happen right before dad was going to buy me my first car. Mom was able to find me this piece of shit truck. She probably sucked some car lot owner's dick to get it.

My truck broke down so often that I had to learn how to start fixing it. It was to freaking expensive to keep bringing it in. Plus it was so annoying to break down on the side of the high way and have to wait for Triple A.

So I asked Finn to ask Burt to show me around under the hood. Burt did and now I would go in to Burt's garage every weekend to work as a thank you. After about two months of that, he said he couldn't let me keep working for free, as I was the best grease monkey he'd ever seen. So I still work every weekend for Burt at 15 bucks an hour to save for university.

But of course, because it's raining, my truck would decide to break today. I finally get it to start working just before Rachel exits the school. She came out just after Finn and Sam peeled off. At least Rachel got to miss them steaming up the windows. I heard the school door slam behind her over the healthy rev of my engine. Well, healthy for my truck. I glance over at where she stands and see Jacob behind her yelling and gesturing without sound. That can't be pleasant.

"Hey! Effie!" I call over. "You need a lift?"

"She looks at me and doesn't seem to recognize me. I don't think I could blame her; I didn't wear water-proof mascara today. I can't be a pretty sight after ten minutes in the rain.

"I'm good thank. My dad is supposed to pick me up," she hollers back, pulling out her phone to glance at it. "Twenty minutes ago," she says a little crest-fallen.

"Come on, get in the damn truck. There's no point in waiting forever in the rain." She looks around at the parking lot and the drive way before she crosses the parking lot.

Despite its piece of crap exterior, my truck is quite nice on the interior. That is to say, it's warm and its seat covers are intact. I grab a grease covered towel from behind my seat and rub it over my hair while Rachel watches, cringing.

"I don't exactly have many other options at my disposal," I explain emphatically. "So what the hell was Jacob Israel yelling at you," I ask her as she shivers, clutching her rain soaked arms. I reach back and fumble around behind my seat, grabbing another towel for Rachel. She looks at the towel in my outstretched hand. It's also stained with grease, but less so than mine. She looks like she wants to say no but takes it anyways. She cringes each time she rubs it over her arms.

"Oh he was just being a skeeze; trying to get me to do him."

"That must have been horrible."

Once my arms and hair are finally dry, I light up one of my Marlboro Lights. Rachel's eyes grow to the size of dinner plates and she snatches my cigarette out of my mouth.

"Quinn! What the hell are you doing." She snaps my fucking cigarette in half. Bitch.

I pull out another one and glare at Rachel before saying, "Do that again and I will break your fingers." I light it up and puff a couple times before putting my truck into drive. It takes a while for the engine to warm up anyways.

"Did you wanna go get a coffee or something? You look like crap and I'm guessing you could use a friend's support right now," I ask her. Thinking about what I just said, I add, "That sounds shallow and mean but I really mean it. I'm here for you."

Rachel smiles a little before whispering, "No thanks Quinn. Can you just take me home?" Then she turns a little to stare out the window. The silence is palpable as we roll down the rain slicked streets of Lima.

At a red light, Rachel turns to me and asks, "Can you keep a secret Quinn?"

"Yeah." The light turns green and I push my poor bitch of a truck up to it's max speed of 45 mph.

"After glee club, Finn came to see me. We started talking and one thing led to another and… we kissed." I slam my foot on the brake.

"What the FUCK! Rachel! What the fuck are you saying! I can't handle this shit." I floor the engine again and drive to Lima Bean. Pulling through the drive-thru I order an extra-large coffee full of cream and sugar for me and a chai latte made with soy milk for Rachel. She protests a little but I give her a look that makes her take the cup. I park the truck and cut the engine, but not before sending up a silent prayer that she works when I try to start her up again.

"Okay, spill."

* * *

A couple hours later I finally pull up in front of Rachel's house. Our drinks are done, I've gone through seventeen cigarettes, and Rachel's gone through a spectrum of emotions in a cathartic spiel. The engine turned over a few times before I resigned myself to having to tinker under the hood again. Thinking Rachel could benefit from a little lesson in truck maintenance, I had Rachel come look too and watch. She was quiet, but asked a few questions.

Rachel opens her door and hops down. She turns to face me saying, "Thank you, Quinn. This has been… helpful… nice, even."

"You cannot tell anyone about you and Finn kissing. Just forget it happened." Her face scrunches up, sad again, tears welling in her eyes. "Just focus on being you; Confident, driven, and smart. You're going to be fine." She shuts to door lightly and stands in the walkway waving mournfully as I drive away.

* * *

~Finn Hudson~

Sam and I didn't leave his car for like an hour after we'd gotten to his house. We just made out in his car, grinding hard into each other in the driver's seat. Finally, we get out of his car and head inside. Mom wants me home by 9 and it's already 6:30.

Inside, my stomach grumbles. I had barely done anything more than pick over my lunch at school. Sam gives me a worried look and pulls out a big pan, bread, cheese, and butter. Ten minutes later, he's piled a stack of grilled cheeses on a plate in front of me. He's only made one for himself. He wolfs it down quickly and watches me eat mine with a caring look in his eyes. He sings to me gently.

**Well we go back so far swingin' in your backyard  
All the things that we used to do  
We were cool back in high school, ooh, I really liked you  
Must have been your attitude**

**And that's why you keep on runnin' in and out of my mind**  
**As the years they all roll by, baby, now I know why**  
**I keep comin' back to you**

**You're the only one that knows me, love it when you hold me**  
**I'd never find a love like this, let me hear you say**

I'm almost done my fourth one when he gets a weird look over his face. He gives me a pained looking little grin and gets up to go to the bathroom. When he comes back a few minutes later, he looks like crap.

"Sam, what's wrong? I don't mean to sound like a dick, but you look like shit," I tell him as I finish my last sandwich. I've decided not to become anorexic. I couldn't do that to Sam or mom.

"Um... nothing's wrong," he croaks, blinking his bloodshot eyes a few times.

"Sam, I worry about you. Please, tell me what's going on."

Sam murmurs something so softly that I don't hear him, his eyes lowered to stare at the counter. I grab his chin and pull his face up to look me in the eyes. I quirk up my eyebrow, something he tells me I do when I haven't heard something I was trying to. He thinks it's cute, but from how quickly his eyes break into tears, I'm guessing he doesn't today.

"I'm… I'm.. bulimic," he whispers quietly, looking around guiltily. Did he really just say that?

"Bulimic… you mean like…"  
"Binging and purging. Mostly purging."  
"Sam, what the hell? Why would you ever think you'd… you've got like the hottest body ever. You don't need to lose anything. I wish I could look as good as you do. Sam… this has got to stop. You could ruin your voice... or die!"  
"I can't! You wouldn't be with me if I didn't maintain this body. I can only do that with the purging."  
"Sam, I love you. I always will. I wouldn't care if you get so fat that you become completely round. But you're not round. You perfect and you're just killing yourself. Let me bring you to the new sex ed teacher. She's got like a psychology degree that specializes in eating disorders. Let me help you"

It's a while before Sam can look me in the eyes again. He stares deeply into mine and I stare into his. I notice just how red his eyes are and how dead they look. Finally, he breaks the silence between us, croaking in a broken whisper, "okay".

I wrap my arms around him. Though he's much stronger than me and he could kick my ass in a fight, I've got a good five or six inches in height on him; just enough to be able to rest my head on top of his. He's sobbing a little; I can feel his tears soaking through my shirt. We stay like this for at least ten minutes; long enough for his shaking to stop.

"C'mon, I know you had something much more fun planned than eating and interventions," I say, trying to get him to smile. It kinda works; a half-smirk plays its way onto his face.

He grabs my hand and leads me to his bedroom. He picks up a remote and hits on of the buttons. Then the wall fucking opens up. I leap away from it, landing on Sam's bed. The Poltergeist scarred me as a kid. In the wall hole there's a TV; a huge one. Sam smirks again at my expression of mixed fear and awe. He crosses to his enormous DVD collection and grabs one before popping it into the DVD player under the TV. It's the 2009 remake of Halloween 2.

Sam joins me on the bed, snuggling in close. He knows I scare easily at slasher flicks and like to have someone to cling to. It's probably why he picked it. Within the first few minutes I'm clutching him desperately as Michael Myers hacks several people apart. Sam strokes my arm to comfort me and hums a little.

The movie is scary and I jump more times than I'd care to admit. Each time Sam's there to hold me tight and kiss the top of my head. He's like a big protector; a guardian.

I don't know what make me do it, but all the same I look up at Sam and mumble," I love you Sam." He looks down at me and kisses me softly. Pulling away, he bites his lip and looks me up and down quickly.

He disentangles himself from me and gets up. I move to get up too but he pushes me back down. One of his hands snakes under my shirt to rub my chest. With the other Sam quickly undoes my belt and jeans, pulling them down. Great; now my red "laundry day" briefs are on display. Sam laughs a little before nuzzling down there. It feels great.

Sam comes back up to kiss me again before pulling my shirt off. I'm mostly naked now. My feelings of inadequacy start creeping back as I'm next to the perfectly shaped Sam.

He breaks the kiss and moves down a bit to suck on my left nipple. He's good; nipping, sucking, and swirling his tongue around it, all the while his hand pinching and twisting my right one.

After he's done with my left nipple, he starts to go to work on my right. I'm moaning like I'm in heat. I've never felt this good without coming in my pants. I do feel like I'm leaking into my briefs.

Sam moves down to my package again, letting his tongue trace a line down my body. "Do you want me under these," he asks in a rough voice, pulling gently at my briefs before letting them snap back down on my hip.

"God yes!" I shout. I'm seeing stars and I can barely speak, Sam has me so horny.

Sam grins and roughly pulls my briefs off, freeing my hard dick. He starts by sucking each of my balls separately before engulfing both in his trouty mouth. I babble nonsensically as he paints them with his wide tongue. That's the best way I can describe it because my man is an artist with that thing. While sucking on my sac, his hand goes to work stroking my pole.

After working on my balls for a bit, Sam pulls off and looks at my dick hungrily. He licks the length of it a few times before starting to suck on its head. After a while he relaxes his throat and swallows all of me. His mouth feels so fucking good. I can't believe I've held on this long. It's definitely the hottest I've ever felt.

After a long and amazing blow-job I cum and Sam swallows it. He comes up to kiss me, the taste of my seed fresh in his mouth. After we break apart, we lay next to each other, wheezing and moaning softly.

"You… are… fuck… ing… amazing!" I exclaim between pants. In my post-orgasm haze I feel my eyes get heavy and my lids begin to droop. Thn I remember that I have to be home for nine.

"Shit! What time is it!" I twist around, looking for an alarm clock or regular clock or something with the time on it. I spot the little display on the VCR. It's 9:21. Shit shit shit shit shit!

"Get up! I have to go home! I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago. My mom is going to kill me!" We're dressed and out in two minutes and in my driveway in five.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I tell him with a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," he says with a look that says he means it. I make a mental reminder to bring him to that new sex ed teacher. He's too good to not deserve the best.

Mom is livid when I get inside. All I can do is say "I'm Sorry" and try to outlast her tirade. Oh well. Just gives me more reason to look forward to tomorrow.

* * *

AN: Oh shit! What gonna happen next? If you read but don't review, land slugs will conquer the Emerald Isle.

Song feature in this chapter: Love Like This – Natasha Bedingfield


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